Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. Title is a poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Chapter 20: A Woman's Shortcomings

It was a painstaking process, since she could not find the lead ball at first. The three of them were becoming increasingly worried, and poor Gabriel was on the verge of passing out from pain. The candle was nearly melted all the way down by the time Camille whispered "Aha!" She very gently cleaned out the bullet and sword wound, and was just finishing his bandages when Jack came in.

"I've been on this ship three bloody minutes and we have a casualty? What kind of captain are you, Quartermaine?" he joked.

"For your information Jack Sparrow, I've just performed my second surgery without a medical degree," she bragged.

"Very good, love."

She looked down at her patient. "Are you all right, Gabriel? Is there anything else?" she asked gently, stroking his hair.

"No. Thank you, Camille. You saved my life," he said gratefully. He had a little trouble sitting up, but she helped him get to his feet.

"Come, let's get you a cabin. She's all yours Captain, and I'll clean up the mess."

"Not to worry, darling. That's what shiphands are for," Jack said, opening the door for them. "You there! What's your name? I don't care what your name is, get in there and clean up that mess! That cabin had best be spotless when I come back in!"

It was just now that Camille realized she still had on Jack's hat. After finding a bed for Gabriel, she went back up through the rain to Jack's cabin. It was being cleaned, and Jack had his feet up and his bottle of rum in hand as he shouted out orders.

"I'm glad to see you in a better mood, Captain," she said as she placed the hat on his desk.

"Evenin', love. I think I'll hold off roll call until morning. Only a madman would set sail in this weather," he said, pulling her onto his lap.

"I'm also glad to see that you're not one of those, either. You had me worried back there. I must admit, I've never seen you so vexed as you've been these past days."

He rubbed her back. "Did you think I'd be hostile towards you, darling?"

"It is possible. You have been before."

But Jack only laughed. Nothing could bring his merriment down even remotely now, not even the violent storm that was raging. In fact, it was probably helping his mood. Camille excused herself from the cabin. She was quite relieved at the sudden change in her captain's elations.

Priscilla and Gretchen were in Gabriel's cabin. Priscilla was sharing her blanket with Gretchen, and Gabriel was sitting up, talking to them. Camille peeked in on them. "There are plenty of cabins available, you know. Perhaps the two of you would be best to share one," she said, addressing the ladies.

The sisters looked equally as terrified. "Are we the only women on the ship?" Gretchen asked.

"Of course we are. This isn't a time when women are much fond of a life at sea. Are you really that worried about this?" Camille asked. "Gabriel, lie down, for God's sake," she insisted.

"Are they going to hurt us?" Priscilla asked.

"No, darling. Because if they do, they are going to turn into sharkbait or be sold into slavery very quickly." She took a seat next to Priscilla. "You're going to be just fine on the Pearl. Now come, we've got to get you out of these wet clothes before you catch cold. A pirate ship is the worst place to be sick on."

This said, Gretchen screamed, waking Gabriel from his nodding off. Camille held her hand to her mouth. Perhaps she shouldn't have used that word. Gretchen was going to go hysterical on her. She was huddled up in the corner, covering her ears.

"Please, don't go hysterical on me now," Camille begged, approaching her slowly.

But Gretchen was extremely paranoid. "No! Don't touch me!" she cried, with tears in her eyes.

"Gretchen, honestly," Gabriel began. "You've done this before-"

"No I haven't! I do not go on pirate ships, I have never!" She would not move from her spot on the floor, and Camille had to resolve to picking her up and hoisting the young woman over her shoulder. The entire time Gretchen kicked, punched and scratched until she was placed into another room.

"Perhaps you'd prefer to share the cabin with your brother," Camille said, letting herself back into the hold with some clothes. Her lip had been split open, and she sucked on it gently. Priscilla had been waiting patiently for her there. Ana Maria had arrived shortly before, and unlike Jack she was in as foul a mood as when they had left the house.